


let's make this happen, girl

by verity



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Communication Failure, Crossover, F/M, Scooby Feels, Season/Series 03, Unreliable Narrator, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm a vampire slayer," Buffy says, crossing her arms. "I'm not the <i>dog police</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's make this happen, girl

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS ALL TUMBLR'S FAULT. Thanks/blame: darthjamtart, snickfic, sophia_sol.
> 
> (I'm finishing up my big bang fic, so I can't promise super regular updates, but I expect there will be another chapter up in the next week.)
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is set a few months after the conclusion of season 2 of _Teen Wolf_ and the events of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ (the movie, not the TV show).

"I'm a vampire slayer," Buffy says, crossing her arms. "I'm not the _dog police_. What do you want me to do, go to their houses and deliver a stern 'BITER NO BITING' lecture?"

Her new Watcher nods. "As I've been saying, Mr. Argent, the Slayer works for the Council, not for you. We will, of course, keep you apprised of anything of interest that may occur in the area."

"Right." Mr. Silver-Around-The-Temples Fox gets to his feet. "Well, this has been an excellent waste of time. I'll see you around, Miss Summers."

—

"This is good." Her mom unzips the last of the little padded containers they'd packed the good china in for the move. "I have a good feeling about this, Buffy. New town, fresh start. For both of us."

"Right," Buffy says, drying off another plate. This whole handwashing-then-drying-then-putting-away routine wasn't exactly the most exciting part of the new move. Good: no one who'd been around for the whole gym-burning incident. Bad: no one who'd been around for the whole gym-burning incident. Maybe she could put all that vampire-slaying stuff behind her, but it would have been nice if she hadn't had to leave all her friends behind, too.

"I've heard Beacon Hills High has excellent academics," her mom says. "And a star lacrosse team. Lots of cute boys."

Buffy elbows her mom gently. She's still getting used to the whole slayer super-strength thing; it hasn't been all that long. "Ugh, boys. Can we talk about the mall instead? There's a good mall, right?"

"No Nordstrom," her mom says. "But they do have Macy's."

—

Surprise, surprise: it turns out that hooking Buffy up with her class schedule is her new Watcher's day job.

"I'm done with that line of work." Buffy gets to her feet and grabs her schedule. She glares at Ms. Morrell, who's leaning back in her chair with a Mona Lisa smile on her face.

"I think you'll find that your work isn't done with you," Ms. Morrell says.

"Yeah, I'm kind of done with the whole enigmatic zen master Watcher routine, too."

Ms. Morrell smiles again, baring her teeth just a little bit. "Class start back up tomorrow, but you'll be back at the school and in my office tonight at seven sharp, Buffy. Beacon Hills isn't like LA; it's contested territory. If you're not willing to work with me, there are plenty of other parties waiting in the wings to win your allegiance."

Buffy narrows her eyes. "Not exactly with the following you here."

"With the backing of the Council, you're a free agent as far as everyone else is concerned," Ms. Morrell says. "It doesn't have to be like it was in LA, Buffy. I'm here for guidance. Think of me as a resource, not an authority figure."

"I bet you tell that to all the kids," Buffy says.

She comes back later that night, though, which is how she meets Chris Argent and finds out about the wolves of Beacon Hills. On the walk home, she stakes two vampires. Buffy doesn't like it—she doesn't want any of this, she wants to have an actual life, go back to being a normal girl who wasn't chosen for anything except Homecoming Queen and maybe, unfairly, for demonstrating the quadratic equation on the board in math class—but it doesn't look like her opinion's going to start counting any time soon.

Werewolves? _Seriously?_

—

Word travels fast in Beacon Hills, because two minutes after Buffy sits down at a vacant table in a corner of the cafeteria by herself, three kids converge on her and box her in.

"Hey," the girl says, sitting down across from Buffy. She's got curly, dark hair and a shy smile. "I'm Allison, and this is Scott—"

Tall, hot, and wolfy next to Allison raises his hand.

"—and I'm Stiles," the final member of their trio chimes in as he slides onto the bench next to Buffy. "Allison's dad wants her to spy on you, and Scott doesn't want you to kill him, and I'm just curious, and also, wow, you're really—do you want some curly fries?" He shoves his tray over towards Buffy.

Out of courtesy, Buffy gives the curly fries a once-over. Yeesh. She's got granola, yogurt, and a banana; she'll pass. "I'm good," she says to Stiles. "I thought there were more of you, though? Mr. Argent was complaining about—"

"Oh, Derek's pack," Allison says, pointing toward the other side of the cafeteria where Hell's Toothy Angels are gathered, complete with leather jackets and attitude that Buffy can feel all the way over here. "And Jackson, we're not really sure what he's doing." That's one of the jocks drinking a protein shake a few tables over; his girlfriend shoots Buffy a glare.

"You guys aren't really trying to stay under the radar, huh?" Buffy peels back the foil top on her yogurt. "Well, I guess that makes sense. Ms. Morrell said Beacon Hills was drowning in supernatural energy, I just didn't think that extended to, like, lacrosse."

"So, you're a vampire slayer," Scott says thoughtfully. "That means that vampires exist? For real?"

Allison pats Scott's arm and they lock eyes for a long moment. Scott doesn't look like he's a threat to anything aside from Allison's curfew.

Stiles clears his throat. "Uh, they're in the bestiary? Lydia translated that part last week? I copied the notes for you, dude, I even highlighted the important parts. Vampires, we stab them before they slab us, only Dracula can turn into bats and he's probably not actually real? Google was not helpful on that one."

"Pretty sure he's just a myth," Buffy said, turning toward Stiles. He's taller than she thought at first, skinny and all flaily limbs, but kind of cute. She can't imagine anyone who looks less like a creature of the night.

"…good to know," Stiles says.

—

Beacon Hills doesn't actually have that many vampires, as it turns out, and Buffy hasn't gotten so much sleep at night since the week after she burned down the gym at Hemery. Allison and her friend Lydia confer their blessing upon her: overnight, Buffy's back to status quo as one of the most popular girls in the school. Her classes are full of cute lacrosse boys who flirt with her and girls who give her jealous side-eyes. The werewolves are all juniors, so Buffy mostly sees them in passing and at lunch, where she sits between Allison and Stiles and listens to their excited chatter. Derek's wolves keep to themselves, but they're always in the cafeteria, too.

"Who is this Derek guy, anyway?" she asks Allison. They're in Allison's car, headed over to the Argent house for some archery practice. "How did he get to be wolf scout troop leader?"

Allison brakes maybe a little too hard at the red light. "Derek's—he's a born werewolf, the Hales have always been wolves. His pack, though, he gave them the bite. He turned them."

"Whoa, isn't that not so cool with you guys?"

"We're not the law," Allison says, waiting for the green.

—

Buffy doesn't read the inch-thick binder of notes that Stiles hands her after school a few days later. Instead, she texts him when she gets home: _don't u think u could give me cliff notes?_

 _that IS the Cliff's Notes._ A few seconds later, _SERIOUSLY you should probably read it._

_chemistry hwk tho_

_it's your life! or HORRIBLE SUPERNATURAL DEATH!_

Buffy is not above resorting to extreme measures. She mutes the TV, turns on closed captioning, and dials Stiles's number. Multitasking: it's an important life skill. "Hey, you," she says as soon as he picks up. "I'm not reading an entire textbook on the magical flora and fauna of Beacon Hills. I have to figure out stoi—uh, chemistry and catch up on _Gossip Girl_ before I go patrol, okay."

Stiles sighs. " _Don't you have a Watcher to break this down into bite-sized pieces for you? I have stuff to do, too._ " 

"Please?" Buffy says in that voice she normally reserves for her Dad when she really, really wants a new pair of shoes.

" _Okay, okay. Do you want—look, meet me at the library and bring your chemistry homework, I'll help you, two birds with one stone—_ "

"I don't have my license yet, you'll have to pick me up."

" _Oh my god,_ " Stiles says. " _Derek, stop—okay, fine, Buffy, I'll do it, I'll come get you, just give me half an hour._ "

"Sure," Buffy says. She hangs up and unmutes the TV. Half an hour's definitely enough time to finish this episode.

—

They end up in the coffee shop by the high school instead of the library. Buffy buys Stiles a mocha because she did kind of drag him out of his house to make him do her homework; she gets herself a skim latte.

"Stoichiometry and werewolves," Stiles says while Buffy unloads her backpack on the table between them. "Let's do this."

Stiles is a really good tutor, as it turns out—lots of practice with Scott—and his explanations are clearer than Mr. Harris's. After half an hour, Buffy feels like she's starting to get the hang of things. She finishes her problem set while Stiles does some reading for English; he checks it over for her when she's done.

"So." Stiles pushes Buffy's homework to the side and pulls the supernatural binder to the fore. "If you'd actually opened this, you'd notice there's a _table of contents_ with _brief explanations_ for the less reading-inclined. This is just a paper copy of my bestiary and a recap of what happened last year. As I just found out last night, thank you Derek, there's an alpha pack in town, and I still don't know what the hell—"

"What's going on with Derek?" Buffy asks him, looking at the table of contents. Okay, this is not as bad as she thought. "Is he your secret BFF?"

Stiles sputters. " _What?_ No, no, no, _no_ , it's _really_ not like that."

"Just, he was with you earlier, and I'm pretty sure that he and Scott are not besties—"

Stiles runs his hand over his face; he has freakishly big hands. "Look, it's—it's complicated. I spent all this time writing it out so you—this situation with the alpha pack, it's really not good. And Allison's family—some really bad shit has happened, okay, between the Argents and Derek's family, like the part where Allison's mom and aunt and grandfather died last year and her aunt burned his family alive and the person he has left is his super creepy uncle."

"Whoa." Buffy knows Allison's mom is dead, but she hasn't asked a lot of questions—all four of them are down a parent now, Buffy and Allison, Stiles and Scott, and Buffy doesn't feel like it's a great idea to start that particular discussion. "Look, all I know about the Argents is that right before I started school, Ms. Morrell made me meet with Mr. Argent. He wanted—I guess he wanted to find out if I was into joining the werewolf-killing militia."

"But you're not, you're obviously not, so that's good." Stiles says. "And—I thought Allison's dad was—oh, fuck, he must have known about the alphas—why am I always the last person to hear about this stuff? Why?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm the last person," Buffy points out. She sighs. "I was hoping when I moved here that I could put all this stuff behind me. I wanted to quit. I still want to quit. But I have a 'calling,'" she busts out the air quotes, "that I'm supposed to be fulfilling or something. And I like you guys."

"Uh, thanks," Stiles says, looking down at the binder in front of him.

—

The next night, a giant wolf-thing with glowing eyes jumps out of the bushes by Allison's house and tries to kill her.

Buffy is not stupid. After her study session with Stiles, she went home and read up a little, and she knows what this is—it's an alpha. A fully transformed alpha. Buffy can take Scott in any training exercise they've tried, but not easily. This might not be a fight she can win by herself. So she runs. Not back toward Allison's house, although she knows Allison has a huge arsenal at her disposal—she can't count on Allison opening the door fast enough—but down the street, towards home.

She runs into Derek's pack at the end of the street. The two guys—Isaac and Boyd—are just standing there, but the girl—Erica?—has some sort of knife in her hand, and she tosses it to Buffy. "Stop and wait for him!" Erica calls to her.

Buffy catches the knife, turns, and hey, the alpha was _way_ closer to her than she realized. Her heartbeat's thudding in her ears, but she slips the knife under the alpha's ribs without hesitation—the alpha doesn't even have time to realized what's happening before it's moaning, slinking away, its eyes twin burning coals of hate.

"Hey, thanks," Isaac says, coming toward her. "It's dangerous for us to play with knives after we've soaked the blade in wolfsbane."

"What the _hell_ was that?" Buffy says. "Some kind of— _test_? What's wrong with you?"

"You were in the right place at the right time," Erica says. "No harm, no foul."

"Yeah, right," Buffy says. She doesn't wait for a rebuttal, just books it, runs the rest of the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> as ever, I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) at tumblr, where you'll find deleted scenes, gif reblogs, and magic.


End file.
